Wisdom of the Prophet

So I figured it was about time that I started doing some "real" work. Fancying myself a writer rather than simply an avant-poet truth-bender extraordinaire, that meant long form prose. So that's why I decided to start a new blog. One that will hopefully be host to my more promising work. For those of you that don't pay attention, 3,000 Days of Sun was one of the longer pieces I wrote (attributed to Isaac Aronson) and though I know not what any of you thought of it (it was kind of all over the place in a pseudo-experimental style) I found it to be intriguing and am basing this blog off of it. At least for now. To refresh your memory:

"I had never killed a man. And I am no Mersault. And yet... There was something about the day. It's not that I believe in fate; or Fate. I don't. Quantum randomness and all. Reality is never what is seems. Everything is so much more fluid.

At least he was a bum. A lush we found in the park wrapped in newspaper and dog shit. I can't say that it was planned. We stopped planning shit years ago. And no, we weren't on drugs. We weren't. We weren't drunk or high. But reality had gone fluid. Things weren't what they were. They ... who knows.

It was night. He was asleep. I broke his kneecap with a hammer. We wanted to hear him scream. Then we pummelled him until she bled out. She was a bag lady. We scattered her cans all over the place. Jon wanted to piss on him. But I told him that was a bad idea. Being a broker, he might have friends; you know, ones that can cause trouble. And you never leave DNA behind.

I shot John two days ago. He was becoming too unreliable. He was starting to enjoy it too much. A sadist is grounded in reality. A twisted reality. A violent reality. But a firm reality. And I was beyond that. He was becoming an anchor weighing me down.

I got married yesterday. Her name is Allison. Honeymoon on a private island.

I woke up on my couch this morning. I don't remember how I got here. There was a hammock. And the sun. And the ocean; so blue, so perfect. But... I don't ... remember... "

- Isaac Aronson, 3,000 Days of Sun

Comments are welcome. Guidance and direction and all of that. I can never tell how other people think or what they think of what I do. Help me out and all o' that.

Here's to new beginnings and the same old ending.

- Billy P., at it again.